


I Turned Myself Into a Pickle! I'm Pickle Elias!

by TheEvilSnuffleupagus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), basically uhh elias turns himself into a pickle, takes place around season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvilSnuffleupagus/pseuds/TheEvilSnuffleupagus
Summary: The last thing Peter was expecting to see in the Magnus Institute was his husband, turned into a pickle with help from a Leitner.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	I Turned Myself Into a Pickle! I'm Pickle Elias!

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place around season one, so everyone is still alive and somewhat happy :')

Peter Lukas was not having a good day. He had just arrived back in London after a months-long journey on his ship, and the amount of people scuttling about on narrow sidewalks and packed into noisy little groups was already giving him a headache. He wanted nothing more than to walk into the Magnus Institute, retrieve his terrible little bastard husband, and go home. 

Of course, he didn’t love Elias. Love was something that an avatar of the Lonely had no use for. As for whatever Elias felt for him, he didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly care. They got what they wanted from each other, and that was enough. He pushed open the heavy doors of the institute, and walked inside. When he entered Elias’s office, he realized that nobody was there. 

It was a peculiar thing, for the bastard man to leave his door unlocked when he wasn’t inside. He didn’t want his precious archivist or his assistants rooting around and finding out about all his dirty little secrets. So why this carelessness now? It was then that Peter saw it. A small, green oblong laying on the wooden desk. Taking a closer look, he saw that it was a pickle. He reached out a tentative hand and poked at it, turning it over with caution when he received no response and stifling a gasp when he saw what rested on the other side.

Upon the other side of the pickle was a human face, two beady, familiar eyes embedded in the green flesh. A nose protruding from the bumpy skin. A mouth, now laughing at his surprise. Somehow, this pickle had the face of his Elias. “What is the meaning of this?” Peter growled, looking down upon the hideous thing.

“Oh, Peter, it’s really quite simple,” the pickle mocked. “I turned myself into a pickle! I’m Pickle Elias!”

“You are not Elias.”

“Oh, but I am.” Pickle Elias rolled a few inches to the side, nudging a stapled stack of papers. “This is a Leitner, and I have used it to undergo the transformation you see right now.” Peter snatched up the stack, leafing through the cursed pages. As far as he could tell, it was some sort of television script; one episode’s worth of shenanigans involving two people named Rick and Morty. “Don’t read it out loud, dear. Or you may find yourself in a pickled predicament as well.”

Peter threw down the script, the thought of becoming a helpless, limbless vegetable sending alarm through his brain. “Why would you do this to yourself?” 

“Of course someone like you wouldn’t understand. After all, only those with very high IQs are able to understand the genius of Rick and Morty. I myself see a kindred spirit in Rick Sanchez; just like the godlike scientist, I shall never die.” Pickle Elias smirked, Peter clenching his fists at the sight.

“Change yourself back,” he demanded.

“Why would I do that?” Elias sneered. Peter picked him up, his fist wrapping around his thin pickle body with ease. 

“Do you realize how helpless you are, right now?” He illustrated his point with a squeeze. “I could crush you. I could break you in half. I could… I could _vore_ you.”

“You already bore me, Peter.”

“You know that’s not what I said.” Peter picked up the Leitner, scanning the pages once more for some kind of instruction. “Tell me. How do I change you back.”

“Read the first page out loud.” 

“You told me that doing so would turn me into a pickle!” 

“I lied. You should be used to that by now.” Peter cursed under his breath as he turned back to the first page, grumbling his way through the lines as quickly as he could. Before he knew it, a green glow was emanating from the hand in which he held Elias in. He sped up as he realized the reversal was working. Then he realized, the horror dawning on him, that it wasn’t just his hand that was glowing. 

Peter screamed as he felt himself shrink, pale flesh going green and limbs retreating into his body. Pickle Elias tumbled onto the ground, no arms left to carry him. He was soon joined by the now completely pickle-ified body of his soon to be ex-husband. “What is wrong with you, you stupid little man?” Peter shouted, rolling around the dirty linoleum floor in desperation. “Now we’re both cursed to live as pickles!” Elias simply cackled, rolling onto his side to get a better view of the suffering he had just caused. They both fell silent as the door cracked open. 

“Uh, boss? Heard some shouting, is everything alright in there?” Peter was tempted to say something, say anything that would get the man in the doorway to notice them and hopefully reverse the pickle curse, but he knew that would be the one thing Elias would not forgive. It was too early for his employees to witness something of this caliber. It would ruin his whole evil plan, whatever it was. He saw a pair of legs walk towards them, step over them, and stop at the desk that the Leitner now rested on top of. He heard the rustling of paper, followed by an amused snort.

“Hope the boss man won’t mind if I borrow this,” the man said, walking out with the Leitner tucked under his arm. The moment he was out of sight, mercifully leaving the door open, Peter turned to Elias.

“Well. What a turn of events! Your entire plan ruined, all because you wanted to turn yourself into a pickle,” he taunted.

“It’s not ruined unless he reads it out loud,” Elias replied, teeth gritted. Peter had never seen him looking so agitated. “We need to get that script back from Tim. Without it, we’ll be pickles for the rest of our lives.” The smirk faded off of Peter’s face. He had only been a pickle for a few minutes, and he already hated it more than anything else he had ever experienced. With grim determination, they rolled out the door and down the hall, in the direction of the archives. When they reached the first staircase in their way, they realized they had a problem. 

“If we try to go down these stairs, we will be reduced to green chunks of vegetable by the time we reach the bottom,” Peter grumbled. 

“There might be another way,” said Elias. He rolled over to the railing, and Peter followed. At that moment, a soft, round figure came down the hallway, a cup of tea in one hand as he began to descend the flight of steps. The pickled duo waited in silence, until the man was right below them. “Martin! There’s a giant spider behind you!” Elias shouted, causing him to stop and turn around. At that moment, he pushed Peter through the gap between the railing and the floor, sending him tumbling into the warm mug of tea. Upon seeing that there was, in fact, no giant spiders to be found, Martin shrugged and continued his trek into the archives, Peter unknowingly in tow. 

Peter lamented the fact that he could no longer see. Though his head, or what counted for a head, poked out of the amber liquid surrounding him, the porcelain walls of the mug around him blocked his view of anything that could be useful. All he could do was wait as he was delivered to what he hoped would be the correct location. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he felt the mug being placed on some sort of surface. “Um, I brought you some tea,” he heard Martin say.

“Hm. Thanks.” He saw a tired face peering into the mug, followed by an expression of alarm. “Martin, did you put a pickle in my tea?” 

“Uh, no? It’s, um, chamomile. With some honey.” Peter attempted to clamber out of the mug that now imprisoned him, but the sides were too slick to form any kind of a grip.

“Well, you also added an entire pickle.” 

“I think I’d remember adding an entire pickle to your tea, Jon.” He saw another face peer into the mug, this time round and confused. “Huh. That’s… that’s an entire pickle, alright.” He felt a spoon fishing him out, followed by the cool air around him as he hurtled to the ground. “Sorry about that. I’ll, uh, clean that up. Are there any paper towels in here?” The moment the pair’s backs were turned, Peter rolled as quickly as he could, out of the room and into the one where the archival assistants supposedly worked. He nearly sobbed with relief when he saw Tim working away with some woman, the Leitner forgotten on a chair beside him. He leapt up, grabbed a dangling corner of the script between his teeth, and began to roll out the door. 

“What the fuck?” he heard, right as he cleared the doorway and dove out of sight. He sped out of the hallway like a race car’s wheel, only stopping when he made it into the elevator that would take him back to Elias’s office. He leapt up and pressed the button, hoping against all hopes that nobody else would try to come inside. Finally, it arrived. The journey was over. He would be human again. 

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” Elias chided when he rolled into the room, script in tow. 

“Shut up and change me back,” Peter snapped. Elias rolled his eyes and began to read out loud from the final page of the Leitner, a warm glow enveloping both of their bodies. Soon, green gave way to human skin tones, limbs emerged from where there had been none, and they continued growing until they were back to their original human sizes. Peter sighed with relief as he stood up, feeling a newfound appreciation for his legs. “I hope you realize we’re getting divorced again,” he muttered, wringing the tea out of his jacket. 

“I’ll go get the papers,” Elias grinned.


End file.
